


maybe i'll tell you sometime

by mrs_nerimon



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-21
Updated: 2014-02-21
Packaged: 2018-01-13 07:13:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1217281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrs_nerimon/pseuds/mrs_nerimon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It starts, as all things involving Peralta do, with an argument.</p>
            </blockquote>





	maybe i'll tell you sometime

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the lovely Sarah on tumblr, since we're both having major meltdowns over these two.  
> The first of what I predict will be many fics for this pairing as I spiral into insanity because this show is so great.

It starts, as all things involving Peralta do, with an an argument.

“You’re 8 kinds of _insane_ , Santiago. There has never been, and never will be, a cop show greater than Magnum, P.I. It just can’t happen. There would be an uprising! The people couldn’t handle it!”

She honestly can’t remember how they even got on this topic. One minute she’s filling out paperwork, then Boyle makes some comment about buying all the seasons of CHiPs on DVD, and the next thing she knows Peralta’s leaning over her desk, berating her about her TV show choices.

“All I’m saying is, Knight Rider had some potential.”

Jake heaves a sigh and throws his arms in the air, stepping away from her desk like it’s just getting to be too much.

“You’re the most unreasonable person I’ve ever met.” He snaps.

“Are we strictly talking 80s shows here?” Boyle butts back into the conversation eagerly, wheeling his chair over to their desks with some effort. “Because I’d like to make the case for Columbo.“

“No, Charles.” Jake shakes his head and flops back down into his chair. “No more cases. I won’t hear any more of this insanity.”

Amy tries her best not to give into the urge to roll her eyes, but honestly, around Peralta it seems to be an impossible task. “I’m not saying it’s the best show _ever_ , but I liked it when I was a kid.”

“The car _talks_ , Santiago. It talks.” He says it so matter-of-factly, like this is his big conflict. Talking cars are where Jake Peralta draws the line.

“So?” She almost hates herself for getting so _into_ this little debate with him, she’s got a dozen better things to be doing right now, but screw it, she’s already in too deep. “I mean, it was kind of sci-fi-“

“Ha!” He jumps to his feet again, and his chair rolls away behind him, bumping into an unsuspecting Hitchcock. “Sci-fi means it isn’t a cop show.”

She doesn’t bother fighting the eye roll now. “The main character’s a detective.”

“That doesn’t mean it counts.” He crosses his arms and looks down on her triumphantly.

“ _Well_ , technically a private investigator isn’t a cop either.”

“He’s more of a cop than a _talking car-_

_“_ The car isn’t the cop!”

She’s out of her seat now too, leaning over to shout at him. Somewhere along the line the rest of the precinct slowed to a stop to watch them carry out this ridiculous argument, and after a moment she realizes the silence is because everyone’s staring at the two of them.

Amy immediately drops back into her chair, ducking her head to hide the growing flush on her face.

Jake begrudgingly follows suit, reluctantly opening up his files when he realizes she’s done shouting in his face.

After a surprising 5 minutes of quiet, he leans over the desks once more and excitedly stage-whispers to her.

“What are you doing tonight?”

She shoots him a concerned look, and he quickly shakes his head.

“No, not like- never mind. Come over to my place and I’ll make you see the light.” Somehow his ‘quiet’ voice is louder than his regular one.

“I’m busy.” Amy mutters, head still down as she attempts to focus on her papers.

“No you’re not.”

The sad thing is he’s right, she’s not. Kylie’s out of town, and her plans for the night had included buying a frozen pizza and watching whatever Netflix suggested for her. Maybe spending the evening with Jake wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

“Come by at 7, and bring food. Also drinks. And some toilet paper, soap, and coffee filters. I’m out.”

On the other hand, this could be a giant mistake.

—

She shows up at 7 with a bag of chips and a 6-pack. He greets her at the door in a slightly less crumpled plaid shirt than the one he wore to work, which seems like it should be the other way around, and tosses a DVD at her, chuckling to himself as she scrambles to catch it while keeping a hold on the other items.

She slams the beer into his chest in response, perhaps a little too hard with the way he rubs at it for a few moments after.

Amy’s not even surprised to find that he owns all 8 seasons on DVD, and they both sprawl across his tiny couch. Surprisingly enough, his apartment’s notably neater than it was the last time she was here, and she can actually see the furniture she’s sitting on, as opposed to it being covered with clothes, food, and a thick layer of dust, as per usual.

They go through the first two episodes without a word, just silent appreciation of Tom Selleck’s mustache. And _yeah_ , she’ll admit it’s a fine show, it’s easy to see why he likes it. But it still isn’t _that_ good, and there are a few times where she glances over and he doesn’t even seem to be looking at the screen.

(Two of those times she glances over and he’s looking at _her_ , but that’s really not something she wants to think about, especially not this late at night when they’re sitting so close she can hear him breathing when the show gets quiet.)

After the third episode ends and the screen fades to black Jake hits pause, hopping to his feet.

“Stretch break.” He explains, waving his arm above his head in a move that’s probably going to do more harm to his body than good. She stretches out her legs and wiggles her toes, then folds back in on herself, sinking deeper into the couch.

Maybe it’s the fact that they went 2 hours without taking a dig at each other, but she feels relaxed and comfortable.

“So, you’re kind of right. It’s a pretty good show.”

He wiggles his eyebrows at her as he flops back down. “I’m always right, Amy, have you not gotten that yet?”

She smiles to herself, turning to face the TV again. There’s a brief pause, and then he clears his throat.

“I used to watch this a lot with my mom.”

She’s surprised at his admission; for as long as they’ve been partners, Peralta’s never been one to talk about his family, aside from the occasional snide comment.

“Some channel used to play reruns, and on her days off we’d stay home and watch it.”

“That’s really sweet.” She offers. He glances over at her and for half a moment she sees a genuine, caring look on his face. They stare at each other for just a beat too long, but it’s more _nice_ than anything else, much to her surprise.

He turns away first, and she tries to ignore the way her cheeks seem to be getting hot.

“Yeah, well, if you ever meet my mom you’ll see why. She’s got Magnum, P.I written all over her.”

Amy snorts. “Really?”

“Oh, yeah. Lots of Hawaiian shirts. _Lots_.”

She laughs probably louder than she should, and he nudges her with his foot to get her to quiet as the theme song starts up again.

The evening ends after 5 episodes, mostly because she keeps dozing off and he keeps pinching her arm to keep her awake.

Jake hands her the remaining stack of DVDs after she’s buttoned up her coat.

“So you can keep going.” He explains, and she smiles gratefully.

“Thanks. I’ll let you know what I think.”

“Oh, I know what you’ll think. You’ll think it’s awesome.” The sentence ends with a yawn, and Amy has to admit she’s impressed with his ability to be a smug know-it-all even when he looks like he’s about to fall asleep standing up.

She heads for the door but stops suddenly, turning around as an idea hits her.

“Actually, how about you keep these.” She holds the disks out to him, and he gives her a quizzical look.

“You said you liked it, right?”

“Yeah, but I, uh- I thought we could watch the rest of them together.” Amy looks down at her coat and brushes off some imaginary lint to avoid the mocking look she knows is forming on his face. “We could do this again. If you want.”

“Yeah.” Jake’s response is immediate and she looks up abruptly, surprised that he seems to be sincere. “That’d be fun.”

She smiles widely at him, but turns away before he can notice her cheeks flushing again.

“See you tomorrow, Santiago.”

Amy doesn’t totally trust her voice to come out completely normal sounding in that moment, so she settles for a brief wave at the door.


End file.
